Friday 20th May Carcassonne to Mazemet

It might seem mad to walk all the way to Mazemet and then have a rest day when I could have stayed in Carcassonne and had a rest day's there, but there was a tiny bit of method in my madness. My main concern was that I couldn't find anywhere to stay in between so splitting the journey would have meant a taxi back to Carcassone, or forward to Mazemet, and not taking a day's rest. To add slightly to the complexity, I was going to be walking with a friend from today and the Carcassone to Mazemet start would have been a bit tough. As it is my friend has injured his foot and has had to cancel his trip.

Although Carcassone is an incredibly pretty place it's also an intense tourist honey pot. Inside the walls every available space is given over to cafes and restaurants, and on Thursday night it was full. Have been there before, have now seen it again, that's enough for me.

According to my schedule Carcassone to Mazemet is 51 kilometres with a climb up the 1200 metre Pic Noire in between. Having decided I wanted to try and do it there was no getting out of it. I have now worked out that I'm not very good at finding my reverse gear which may be a bit of a personal weakness!

One thing I have worked out is that you can walk a long way if you start early enough. I was out of my very nice, expensive Hotel at six o'clock. Given how late I was when I arrived and how soon I left they should have given me a discount.

Not thinking things through a six in the morning I decided the straight line approach to navigation was best and instead of heading back into town to pick up the GR 36 headed directly north. After spending time finding my way across the high speed railway line I was then confronted the barrier of the River Aude. Ended up having to follow this all the way back into town. Found the GR 36 at the SNCF station where there are of course lots of hotels and places to eat, and which would have been the perfect place for me to have stayed the night before.

So it was seven o'clock by the time I was marching along the bank of the Canal du Midi and by seven fifteen I had stopped swearing at myself. It is really pretty, linking the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, it's wider than your standard canal. Have often been tempted by the idea of a cruise along it, Rick Stein style, but I really wouldn't fancy falling in the water. Did see a couple of things which I took to be otters, although the given the water they could just have been supersized water rats.

Canal du Midi

Fat Otter?

The worst thing about the walk along the Canal du Midi was that it didn't seem to be contributing much in terms of getting closer to Mazemet. The last three of four kilometres were heading south east and by the time I was heading north again, and high enough to see Carcassonne, it still looked painfully close.

Carcassone

Shortly after leaving the town of Conquers sur Orbiel there was a conflict between the route way marks on the ground and the route on my GPS. After the experience of a couple of days ago, when the I had followed a variant, I decided to retrace my steps. Following the GPS route I did indeed find some GR signs but they were very faded and after a whole reconnected with a better marked trail. Can only conclude that the route had been changed, changes which are unlikely to show up on a paper map, but which definitely cost me some time.

Was at last climbing up into Montaignes Noire. The weather was very hot and sticky but for once had plenty of water. Had bought a local cake, chocolate, bread and cheese but cake power alone was getting me up the hill. By mid-afternoon I thought I had worked out where the top was. There was a wind farm and behind that a communications tower. Was at the wind farm at about 3.45, walked around it and then, merde, starting going again. From 1,000 metres dropped all the way down to under 800 and to the village of Pardelles-Cabardes at the base of Pic Noire.

Still had a long way to go and was tempted to either get a taxi or stay at the Gite d'Etape, (hadn't realised there was one) in Pardelles-Cabardes. Spent 10 minutes like the rat in Skinner's famous (and very cruel) rat experiment trying to work out what to do and then decided to reject the cheese and head of up the mountain. Got to the top, a 400 metre climb, by 5.30. The views would have been amazing on a clear day, comparable with the views I would have got on Canigou if it had been clear then. The view was just good enough however to give me an idea of a good view would have looked like (if you know what I mean).




The communications tower was shaped like a rocket, very fifties. Despite the fact that the French are supposed to hate the Americans it also reminded me that they do, after all, play host to Eurodisney

Is it a rocket?

The weather at this point was starting to look stormy, near but not quite. Given the time I wasn't hanging about. After another 10 minutes saw my first sign to Mazemet, "Mazemet, 13 kilometres, 3 hours 15 minutes". Despite the distance I was actually encouraged and set of off determined to beat the clock.

It was downhill all the way, and through lovely forest, and given the time and the that day off next day, I wasn't trying to save my feet. By 8.15, and after a 20 minutes of seemingly endless zig-zags down a really steep bit of mountain side I was on the road leading into Mazemet. Fortunately the roadside sign which said Mazemet was another 4 kilometres proved to be wrong when the GR 36 took me on a more direct route.

In the forest heading down to Mazamet

The final sting in the tail involved trying to find the Cheval Blanc. This had been booked by my friend and I had assumed it was a hotel. Looked around the centre and couldn't find it. Was then sent up the road to a hotel, a Logis, which was in the process of closing (permanently) and they didn't know where it was. Asked in a bar and got directions from a man who was drunk and which proved to be useless. Happened to see him a few minutes later and he kindly took me straight to the door (although his walking was not very straight). It was a bed and breakfast with no obvious sign so good on him for knowing where it was.

Anyway I made it. My feet were truly wacked and painful, really bruised and I needed to dose up on painkillers to sleep. Insanely long day, 15 hours on my feet, 56 kilometres and 1700 metres of up and nearly as much down.

Thursday 19th May Lagrasse to Carcassonne

From the prettiest village in France to Carcassonne a world heritage site. Trouble was there is a massive amount of walking in between and after walking in the heat for 10 and half hours, wandering briefly around the world heritage site, I rushed off to find a hotel and forget to even take a photograph.

Had got it my head that I would be going around the cliff and travelling along a valley, a long way but not much climbing so fast walking. Well the hour or so after leaving the prettiest village in France it was going to that plan when suddenly the path takes you of the road and straight up a really step path, climbing 400 metres to the top of the ridge. Although not so clear today there were still good views of the sea, the Pryennees and of course Canigou.

Leaving Lagrasse

Most of the ridge walks I've done over the last few days have behaved properly and left you up on the ridge. Unfortunately this one was the exception with a series of gorges cutting through the ridge at right angles meaning that you were not left up for long. I think I had to go up and down about 4 gorges which explains why I have ended up climbing 1600 metres as well as walking 38 kilometres.

It was also very hot. The wind has shifted from north and is now coming of the sea from the south so is warm and more humid. Today there was a lot of walking across limestone pavements, through brush, and up and down very pebbly paths, all tough in the heat.

I think part of the walk was along the Corbieres wine route so, when not on top of the ridge you were down amongst the vines and some lovely villages.

Ribaute

Medieval bridge at Monze

Anyway by the time I had trudged into Carcassonne I was knackered. To make matters worse I think I'm going to have to put in a mega walk tomorrow. Just can't find anywhere to stay anywhere near the trail between here and Mazemet which is 50 kilometres away. One of the reasons I didn't get any pictures of the Unesco world heritage site is that I had to rush of the get some food tomorrow before the shops shut. Plan is to get away really early.

Finally, to make matters even worse, my shoes are on their last legs. Although nothing is getting in, there is a split in one of the soles. Christine is bringing out a new pair (the third pair) next week but it's touch and go as to whether they will last that long.

Wednesday 18th May Duilhac Peyrepertuse to Lagrasse

Today was a bad choice day, I made the bad choices. In fairness to me I haven't made a self inflicted mistake for some time so I guess I had it coming. Well I got it today.

It was building up yesterday. I noticed that the route I had was not necessarily the quickest and that some of the GR 36 variants were quicker than the one on my GPS. I checked the maps last night (a PDF file on my iPad) and sure enough there was a GR 36b that seemed to cut some corners. This seemed helpful today because I had over 40 kilometres to do and I couldn't get away until gone 8.30.

Duilhac Peyrepertuse by the way is a really nice village. Basically a tourist village, but this morning I found the Auberge and the restaurant I missed last night and they looked great. Got some bread and cheese from the boulangerie but I also had a huge piece of orange cake from the lovely landlady at the chambre d'hotes.

Duilhac-sous-Peyrepertuse

Set of and more views of the amazing Chateau Peyrepertuse which despite getting so close, I have failed to visit. The walk was nice but not as nice as the last few days and I got locked into my IPod. After listening to the Archer's omnibus (sad but true) I really got into this lecture series from Yale on the history of modern France. Was making amazing progress along forest trails and at about 1 o'clock had walked 20 kilometres.

Chateau Peyrepertuse

All of a sudden the signs gave me an option, the GR 36 or the GR36b. Without getting my iPad out and checking the map I followed the GR36b still listening to the history of modern France, I think I was onto the Popular Front by now. After about 45 minutes I started to worry about how far east I seemed to be going but turning around meant confirming that I had wasted 90 minutes so I just kept assuming, despite the evidence, that any minute the path would take me in the right direction and head north. It didn't. Finally at about 2.30 realised that I would have to abandon the GR 36b and figure out how I was going to get to Lagrasse. I had walked by now about 10 kilometres in the wrong direction so decided to follow the roads until I found the main route to Lagrasse. This took me to 4.15 by which time I had walked 35 kilometres, the total journey was supposed to be just under 40 but the sign said I still had 21 kilometres to go.

I decided that for the first time in about 35 years I was going to try and hitch a ride. Initially I tried the sitting and waiting technique but that didn't seem to work so I tried the walking and hitching technique and that didn't work either. After walking for about 4 kilometres my luck suddenly changed and this woman picked me up and took me to within 9 kilometres of Lagrasse. She was lovely and she seemed very pleased that she was the first person to give me a lift in 35 years, she said she hadn't hitched for 40 years!

On the last stretch I saw one car, it stopped and took me all the way to Lagrasse.

Lagrasse is supposed to be the prettiest village in France, it is very pretty although to be honest it's more like a movie set than a village. It's a bit expensive, even now off season. Am staying in a Chambre d'Hotes and I must admit that, after my hitch hiking successes, I was quite pleased that the landlady felt she had to point out that the room was for one person only and that I shouldn't think about sneaking someone else in later on.

Lagrasse

Monday May 16th Sournia to Caudies de Fenouilledes

What an utter pain in the arse, just discovered that the blog masterpiece I did yesterday has disappeared. Slightly dodgy wifi in the garden of the two Dutch bikers who were running the auberge in Caudies de Fenouilledes must have done for it.

The main problem I had yesterday was near starvation. It was Monday and there was nowhere to get food. French villages have just about lost all their shops and bars and the few they have seem to be shut much of the time. I read somewhere that in the sixties there was a bar in France for every 100 people, well those days have clearly gone.

The topography around here consists of a series of ridges running east to west, approaching 1000 metres high. The villages tend to sit in the wide and fairly lush valleys in between the ridges and walk is zig-zags it's way through the countryside. Yesterday it was up over the ridge from Sournia then west, away from Budapest, along the north side of the next valley, through a series of villages, then, in this case through a ridge, into the next valley.

The scenery is gorgeous. It must be the best time of year to see it and the weather at the moment is particularly good, clear, a bit sharpe and not to hot. So climbing out of Sournia I was again treated to great views of Canigou and the Pyrenees as well as the coastal plain and beyond that the Mediterranean. Going down to other side of the ridge involved a trip through a deciduous forest where the trees had only just come out in leaf.

Canigou from above Sournia

South West to the Mediterranean

The walk also involved a series of villages, firstly Le Vivier, then St Martin, then a number of houses which don't quite coalesce into a village but somehow manage three ruined Cathar castles, and then Caudies de Fenouilledes itself. Just before arriving at Caudies de Fenouilledes I was treated to a walk through the Gorge du Juame which cut through the ridge I had been walking along and took me into the next valley.

Ruins at le Vivier

Ruins at Fenouillet

The villages are very nice, the stone property has been well restored, and I suspect that a lot of the accommodation is used for second homes or for holiday lets. Ever getting hungrier I was hoping for a shop or a bar (in Spain villages this size would have had a least one bar), but no such luck.

The countryside in between the villages was great, hay meadows, vineyards, and higher up herds of cows with calves and a bull. The bulls looked pleased with life and were not going to bother themselves with an idiot carrying a large bag.

Happy Looking Charolais

Arrived at Caudies de Fenouilledes, which is a small town rather than a village, at about 4, spent half an hour trying to find the Auberge and in the meantime spotted the supermarket and boulangerie which will be open tomorrow. Total walk was 28 kilometres with about 700 metres of climb and I was well ready for my dinner when it arrived at 8.

Sunday May 15th Ballestavy to Sournia

A transition day in several different ways. Left Peter Williams, my walking mate for the last few days; the weather has taken a distinct turn for the better; and I have now left the Pyrenees and I working my way through much smaller mountains on the way up to Carcassonne.

Has been great walking with Peter, he's was excellent company and it would have been no fun walking alone high up in the Pyrenees given the terrible weather of the last couple of days. Shame we weren't on  on top of Canigou today as the views would have been amazing, as it was the views of the mountain were pretty impressive.

Fresh snow on Canigou

Today's walk was good although a bit longer than I anticipated. Essentially a walk down the Ballestavy valley heading north, across the flat east west valley and then up into mountains on the other side. Looking east you could clearly see the coastal plain and beyond that the Mediterranean. Towards the bottom of the walk down the valley I was walking through orchards and the cherries provided a really nice early lunch. Left Peter to catch the train at Vinca and crossed the bridge over the Tet reservoir. Slightly strange to be on my own again after 4 days so plugged myself into my IPod, went marching of up a very well marked trail and then missed a really obvious turning. Eventually got back on the route and the first highlight was the old monastery at Marceval.

Marceval

Marceval Monastery

The countryside is much lower than it has been for the last few days and the vegetation has changed. High in the Pyrenees it felt really north European and had sort of trees you would associated with the UK, dropping down a bit it has returned to the Mediterranean scrub I got familiar with in Spain.

The area I'm walking through for the next few days is famous for it's Cathar castles. The Cathars had there own variation of Christianity in the 13th and 14th centuries and at the time this was one of the richest parts of Europe. They built lots of spectacular castles generally located on the tops of hills. The then Pope eventually declared them heretics, called for a crusade against them and have a series of particularly bloody campaigns the Cathars were suppressed and the area lost it's prosperity. I think I saw my Cathar castle today.

Cathar ruins near Campoussy

Although I wasted half an hour or so when I got lost today's walk was a lot longer than anticipated, more like 36 as opposed to the 25 on my schedule. Hopefully this isn't a sign of things to come. I'm staying in the Gite d'Etape at Sournia. It's a bit like a refuge but there is no one else here. The key was left in the door and there was some food for me in the fridge. There was a bill on the table, all I have to do is leave the money before I go in the morning. All very trusting.

Saturday May 14th Refuge de Mariailles to Ballestavy

So today was a walk with everything. Great scenery, wildlife, scary challenging walking, hideous weather and then a great meal at the end of it.

After the terrible afternoon weather of the last two days I decided to head of early (not a lot to make you hang about in a Refuge) and try and get over Canigou before it started to rain. The Refuge was 1700 metres so we had about 1,000 metres to climb, some maps days Canigou is 2,700, some say it's 2,600.

Refuge de Marialles

The walk up the valley is an easy one although we did have to cross a very full river and I get my first dose of wet feet. As we climb the valley I get to see my first ever Flaming Salamander (I my second one later) and then lots of Isards running across the side of the valley. Slightly later Peter thinks we see a wild cat, I think it's a marmot.

Flaming Salamander

Crossing snow fields on the way up to Canigou

The weather is starting to look less settled and although we can now clearly see the top of Canigou there is still a lot of climbing. On the high side of the valley there is still a lot of snow some of which looks a bit too unstable to cross forcing us to make some time consuming detours. Eventually we are ready to make the final climb to the top and it really is a climb. For at least 300 feet your climbing your way up through a chimney, real climbing, and I'm having second and third thoughts about the whole thing. Exhausting, a big scary but actually really exhilarating we eventually make it to the top.

The ridge to the south of Canigou

Climbing the chimney up to Canigou

The clouds prevent us seeing the Mediterranean and the other views for which Canigou is famous for but it's dramatic despite that. It's starting to get cold however so after about 10 minutes we head down the easier path on the other side. The clouds suddenly drop, there is a crack of thunder and the rain and hail is pouring down. We walk through this for another 45 minutes until we get to the Refuge at Catalots, which is fortunately open and we go inside for some shelter. A couple of German women have the same idea and we crowd around the fire, drink hot chocolate and share some fruit cake.

On top of Canigou

Posing Pete

Half a hour later we were on our way again, still cloudy but not raining and only 8 kilometres to our destination at Ballestavy. After a couple of kilometres the GR 36 leaves the GR 10 and heads north effectively leaving the Pyrenees. The rain starts again and we drop into a forest which goes on uninterrupted the next 6 kilometres dropping about 1500 metres on the way. It's a great walk, even in the rain, a narrow ghost train like path through the trees, soft underfoot encouraging you to move really quickly down the hill side.

At about 6.30 we arrive at Ballestavy a really pretty village on the hill side in the middle of the forest. Cold and wet we find the Gite D'Etape near the church and it looks miserable. Peter goes of to get the key and I guard the bags. 10 minutes later he's back and has found accommodation above the restaurant and there is a woman with a car to ferry us there. The day is finished of with a absolutely brilliant Table D'hote sploit only slightly by the damp dog smell of my shoes.

Ballestavy